


Felix's Helping Hand

by hannelore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannelore/pseuds/hannelore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry seeks refuge in the abandoned "Hut on the Rock" where he spent the night with the Dursleys many years ago. It's about to be his birthday again and he begs a bit of mercy from a mouthful of Felix Felicis with clearly unexpected results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Felix's Helping Hand

It was by some stroke of fate or curse that Harry ended up in this hut.

Harry remembered that very night the minute he pushed open the door, slamming it shut against the storm. He could even see Dudley snoring on the moth-eaten couch, the barest shred of blanket on the floor where he'd taken his own refuge. It didn't look like anyone else had bothered to come out here since then, which was little wonder.

Soaked to the skin, Harry wandered over to the cold fireplace and stripped off his shoes and socks. Did he smell sausages? That was impossible; it was years ago. He was amazed what memory could recall, what warmth was remembered. But there were no sausages, and to Harry's chagrin, no firewood in the box by the hearth. He sat back on the couch, dust rising up and making him sneeze. Something was making sitting uncomfortable, something in his pocket. Harry pulled out the small vial of Felix Felicis, admiring the golden liquid.

"Like you're going to do any good in this godforsaken place," Harry muttered. He was about to tuck it away again when he had a thought. Hagrid had found him here, perhaps someone could rescue him. Harry uncorked the bottle, watching the molten bubbles dance merrily to the surface. He knew it was almost his birthday, too. After he had purposely not contacted Ron and Hermione before disappearing the day after Bill and Fleur's wedding, he wasn't expecting any parcels of cake from either of them.

Harry looked at the clock and waited for the clock to start to chime. Once the strike began, he raised the vial as a toast and tipped it back. Just a mouthful for much needed luck.

The fireplace suddenly burst into green flames, a figure spinning dizzily in its midst until it burst out and onto the floor. Harry gaped as the figure was floundering under its enormous cloak amid muffled curses.

"You!"

Draco Malfoy seemed just as surprised, but when he started to reach for his wand, Harry's hand was in his own pocket just as swiftly. Their wands leveled at each other, Draco crouched low even as he started to scuttle back toward the grate.

"How did you do that?" Draco demanded. "I was Flooing to Borgin's... how did you get me here?"

Harry vaulted off the sofa and grabbed at Draco's collar with both hands, his wand forgotten.

"Where’s Snape?!" Harry's sudden lunge had caught Draco off guard, the boy losing his own wand as he was pushed back against the dusty floorboards.

Draco didn't respond, but he snarled as he lunged out to hit Harry. The blow connected with Harry's cheek, making him let go and fall back. Now Draco was on top of him, his knees pinning Harry's arms as he sat just below Harry's neck. Draco gave a triumphant shout, looking around for his wand but realizing it was out of reach. When Draco was looking away, Harry grunted and rammed his head straight into Draco's crotch as hard as he could. Draco shrieked and rolled off, clutching between his legs as he lay on his side.

"You fucking cretin," Draco croaked, looking back with a pained glare. Harry had clambered to his feet and was standing over Draco. He smiled. Draco's furious look disappeared.

"This is from me," Harry said. He raised his foot and stomped hard, hearing the strangely satisfying crunch of Draco's nose breaking. This time Draco screamed, his hands rising to his face as he curled into a tighter fetal position.

Harry felt his heart swell with a kind of vindication he had never experienced before. It was a better than a Quidditch goal, Draco's choking sobs were better than the cheers... and with that distinction Harry felt the sensation deflate immediately. It was no doubt a feeling his father had often. Harry knew he was no better than Dudley or Draco combined: just a bully. Harry looked around and noticed a stack of dishcloths on the cupboard, fetching one and tossing it to Draco. When he did, he noticed there was the butt end of a stick of firewood sticking out from behind the empty wood bin. Harry went to get it, relieved to see that there were several more pieces of wood that had been just out of view. He tossed these into the fireplace, snatched up Draco's wand and lit the wood with a muttered "Incendio."

Poking at the fire, Harry still didn't look back at Draco, who was sniffling noisily in a way that suggested blood and phlegm. Harry glanced over and noticed Draco hadn't picked up the dishcloth.

"Don't be stupid," Harry said, now noticing something underneath the sofa. "Get up, Malfoy, before you suffocate in your own blood. Not that I'd mind."

Harry crouched down and looked under the sofa, snagging what looked like a fuzzy rug. Once he'd caught hold of it, he realized it was a full-sized bearskin rug. Harry grinned.

Felix.

Harry pulled the rug closer to the fire, nudging the coiled Draco with his foot.

"Get up, you bloody idiot."

Draco scrambled to his feet, snatching the dishcloth, but then he bolted for the door. Harry took off after him, but not before Draco had flung open the door and run out into the storm. Draco was obviously even more surprised by this turn of events, looking wildly at Harry after he gaped at the dark raging ocean.

"I want to go home!" Draco screamed. "I've had enough of this and I've had enough of you!"

"There's no way you're getting off this island," Harry yelled above the roar of the surf, grabbing Draco's wrist and trying to pull him back toward the hut. "It's at least a mile from shore!"

"I don't care," Draco said, his voice made even more petulant by the nasal stuffiness from his broken nose. His eyes were red-rimmed, though Harry now realized the other boy looked hollow, as if he hadn't been sleeping for days.

"Get inside," Harry demanded, pulling harder.

Draco relented, letting himself be taken back inside the hut. Harry slammed the door, the storm behind them. Rain lashed the windows as Draco shivered by the door, his nose crusting over with blood and snot.

"Over there on the rug, Malfoy. Get your clothes off."

Draco's eyes widened at this demand, clutching his arms around himself. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Don't be a prat, we're both boys here and you're soaking wet. I'll find you a blanket."

Draco scowled, but since he was now shivering even more violently, he scuffled over to the bearskin rug and started to peel off his soaked layers. Harry opened the cupboard drawers, finding a gray blanket that smelled faintly of cats. When he turned around to offer it to Draco, he saw him stepping out of his blood-spattered trousers. Harry had seen many other boys undressing, in the dorm rooms or the Quidditch lockers, but none of them seemed as pale as Draco. In the flickering firelight, it seemed like he was in some unfinished metamorphosis, his nearly hairless body seeming to lack any definition of muscle. When Draco turned around, he was hunched over with frank embarrassment, his hands cupped over his crotch.

"Are you going to hand that over or not?" Draco said thickly. Harry tossed it to him, picking up his own wand and pointed it at Draco. Draco gasped as he caught the blanket, expecting the worst, but Harry merely said "Episkey" and tucked his wand away. Just as surprised as Harry had been when Tonks had mended his nose, Draco touched his face with a similar look. He shook out the blanket and put it over his shoulders, sitting down cross-legged on the rug and staring balefully at the fire.

Harry walked up behind Draco, and the boy was only given a moment to look up at him as Harry shoved him back against the furs and straddled him. Draco shouted out again as he raised up his hands to beat Harry back, but Harry grabbed Draco's fists and pushed them down against the rug.

"I want to know where Snape is," Harry growled. Draco twisted under him, his gaze furious.

"I don't know where he is!" Draco spat back. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you!"

"Why, because he saved your life?"

Draco stopped struggling, blanching at first before he sneered again.

"I'm not telling you anything."

Harry grinned. It was a look that made Draco hesitate. Harry shifted, pushing his legs to press Draco's thighs apart. Draco gasped and struggled, snarling like a wildcat as he nearly succeeded in pushing Harry back. Harry pinned Draco's spread thighs with his legs and looked down.

"Well, will you look at that," Harry snickered darkly. "You're hard."

Draco flushed, letting loose a string of expletives that would have made Ron take notes. But the evidence was, literally, before them. Harry leaned forward just enough for his still-clothed groin to brush against Draco's cock. The gasp from the other boy made a delicious tickle trickle down Harry's spine. He thrilled at this kind of control, Felix becoming a new monster in his chest, one that made him want to completely humiliate Draco.

"Stop it!" Draco said, his voice breaking on the last word. As if that break was another blow to his situation, he started to thrash again under Harry’s grip. Harry held him tighter--like a parent waiting for the tantrum to blow over. Draco was panting now and, to Harry's delight, there was a dark stain of precome against Harry's crotch. Harry realized how cold his own wet clothes felt and how warm Malfoy's wrists were underneath his grasp.

"You're not going to do this," Draco said breathlessly, "You... you don't even like me."

"Then you know blokes do it?" Harry said. "Have you been shagged before?"

Draco looked away, his cheek pressed against the furs.

"Snape?"

Draco looked back up at him, ugly and hurt. Harry jerked his own head back slightly in surprise. He hadn't expected to be right about that.

"Did you want it?"

"What kind of question is that?" Draco's voice went a bit too high again, and he cleared his throat, furious. "You're a sick bastard, Potter."

"Then you didn't?"

"Go to hell."

Harry pushed up against Draco’s cock again, and this time Draco moaned, something that made him bite his own lip, his cheeks red with rage and embarrassment.

"Fuck you," Draco said, his voice tight.

"Don't move."

Harry pushed himself upright to undo his trousers, Draco still appearing to be in a bit of shock that Harry was actually planning to go through with this. Harry was trying to push down his pants without moving off Draco, but the effort was too clumsy. Draco lunged up and shoved hard; Harry fell over in a tangle with his trousers around his ankles. He managed to shove them off, and he grabbed Draco around the middle, dragging him back onto the bearskin and pinning him face down.

"Get off get off get off!" Draco screamed, writhing underneath Harry again as Harry grabbed his belt and wrenched Draco's arms up behind him, lashing his wrists tight.

Draco's face was now pressed into the musky furs, and he was panting hard with his eyes wide as Harry pulled his hands down along Draco’s sides and rested them on the other boy's hips. The fireplace was still crackling with warmth, even though Harry was sure he'd only put in a few small sticks.

Still in his clammy, rain-soaked shirt, Harry didn't dare let go of Malfoy in case he decided to bolt again. He pressed his crotch to the cleft of Draco's raised arse, Draco shuddering as he stared back at Harry with hate and revulsion.

"It's my birthday," Harry grinned. Draco blinked, not expecting that at all.

"Happy fucking birthday," Draco snarled. "Let me go and I'll send you some other trussed turkey, all right?"

Harry snickered as he clenched Draco's hips tighter, biting his nails into pale skin.

"I don't think they're going to deliver here at this time of night," Harry said. "Plus, you have information I want. I'm betting this will be easier than any truth serum, since you're just begging for me to fuck you."

"What?!" Draco said incredulously, trying to push himself up, but failing completely with his arms secured behind his back. "I certainly am not!"

"You will," Harry said smoothly, running two licked fingertips down the back of Draco's spine. The effect was just what he wanted, a full-bodied shiver. "Or I'll break your nose again."

"I hate you," Draco seethed, arching his back and inadvertently pressing into Harry’s groin. "Just... get this over with, you bastard."

Harry's heart was near bursting. Yes, this is what he wanted most, Draco on his knees, his face into the furs. Hobbled. Then he could put any number of hated people in his place. Draco, Snape... all of them. He smeared the thin smear of precome over the head of his cock, brushing it up against Draco's arsehole. Draco fairly jumped, looking back up at him with wide-mouthed shock.

"You’re... you're not doing it like that!"

"Doing it like what?" Harry said, somewhat taken off-guard. "It's not going anywhere else, Malfoy."

"It's not like shagging Granger," Draco said with a caustic laugh. "You think it's just... going to slide in?"

"Don't talk that way about Hermione," Harry growled, reaching back and smacking Draco across the arse with his open palm, hard. Draco jerked forward at the sudden smack, but then he laughed, the smugness returning to his voice.

"You can't even hit someone properly," Draco snickered. "You're pitiful. This really is your first time, isn't it?"

His hand stinging, Harry was caught between agreement and wanting to punch him. He hadn’t exactly been expecting Draco to come through the fireplace, so it wasn’t as if he’d thought it through.

"There's a bottle in my trousers pocket," Draco sighed, as if he were having to explain something to a very small child. Harry looked bewildered. "The lubricant, you idiot."

"Ah," Harry said, hesitant in his uncertainty. Reaching for his wand, he muttered "Accio lubricant!"

A small bottle flew from the heap of Draco's wet clothing to Harry's hand. Harry glanced at it with a choke of laughter.

"It's pink!"

"It was a free sample," Draco glowered, reddening again all the same. "But it'll do rather than you trying to fuck me in the left nostril by accident. Now, just... do it before my hands go numb."

Harry was already squirting a bit of the lubricant in his hand, turning up his nose at the faint watermelon scent. When he slid his palm around his cock, however, he couldn't help but moan.

"Oh! It's... um... warm."

Draco looked as if he was trying to think up another cutting remark, but he seemed momentarily transfixed by the sight of Harry stroking his cock. Harry grinned, grateful that they seemed to be past the awkward moment. He started to position himself again, but Draco squirmed and made another concerned noise.

"No, wait, you've... you have to do the same to my... you know, my arsehole."

"What?" Harry said, frowning. "Can't I just --"

"Try your finger," Draco snorted. "It'll probably be no bigger than your cock anyway."

Harry glared at him, but he smeared the thick lubricant along one finger and felt up against Draco's arse.

"A little higher," Draco said, his voice strained. "No, lower... okay, right... push, but slowly, just... oh, God."

Harry had managed to push his slick fingertip in, his own demands suddenly thrown off course.

"It's tight," Harry whispered. "I didn't expect..."

"You really are stupid," Draco muttered, though he was now pushing back just slightly, taking on more of Harry's finger.

"You really do want it," Harry said with unabashed awe. "Look at you."

"I don't!" Draco protested, trying to pull away again, but this time Harry pushed in further. Draco groaned, turning his head away. "I'm just trying to get through this with minimal damage, thanks to your inexperience."

"Look at me."

Draco didn’t move.

Harry started to move his finger out completely, which made Draco clench his arse and look around. His face was flushed again, his teeth biting his lower lip in frustration.

"What?"

"Don’t turn away," Harry said, now starting to push his finger in and out slowly. It was still very tight, but the slickness was making it a bit easier. "I want to see how you like it."

"I don't like it," Draco said emphatically. "I'd rather you just let me go."

"You don't have to like it," Harry said, now pulling his finger out completely. "I'm going to do it anyway."

Draco looked at him in a panic, struggling again.

"That's not enough," Draco said, his face now bright with embarrassment. "Snape spent at least a good half-hour, that's barely enough... Potter!"

Harry had pressed the head of his cock to Draco's arsehole, gripping his cock to try to push it in. Draco gulped, pressing his forehead to the furs.

"Look at me!"

When he did look back at Harry, Draco's eyes had begun to water as he moaned a low groan of pain. Harry felt the tight clench around the tip of his cock, as if he was being forced out.

"It's not that easy," Draco said with a gasp, though Harry wasn't distinctly certain which he was referring to. "Don't... please stop... it hurts..."

Harry tried even harder, but it was more difficult than he'd expected, even with the slick lubricant. Draco was panting harder, his eyes clenched shut, tears on his lashes.

"Look... at me," Harry whispered hoarsely. He felt himself finally managing to push in a little, just a little more.

"You bastard," Draco croaked as he opened his eyes.

"Push back on me."

"No," Draco whined, "Don't make me."

"Now, Malfoy, if you know so much, you show me how!"

Draco flinched at Harry's tone, but Harry felt Draco start to push back all the same. Harry had the sensation of holding his breath as he continued to try to push in.

"In... in and out a bit," Draco said. "Little out... little more in... then... again."

Harry followed the guide, his hand on Draco's hip starting to cramp, considering how tightly he was gripping.

"Stop," Draco moaned, "You stupid idiot, you can't do it right and it hurts! It hurts too much."

"I don't care," Harry snapped. It was true, he didn't. "I want you to hurt, you bastard. You killed Dumbledore."

Draco gasped as if he had been struck, but it was at that moment that Harry had finally managed to get all the way in. Putting his other hand on Draco’s hip, he started to draw back and then pushed back in as hard as he could. The pressure was intense, both hatred and sensation suffused together in something that felt incredibly good.

"I didn't do it," Draco groaned, rocking back against Harry's thrusts despite his protests. "I didn't do it."

"You were going to," Harry said, his voice ragged. "I saw the whole thing. You just didn't have the nerve."

"You didn't exactly stop me!" Draco snapped back. Harry stepped up the pace of the thrusting, which made Draco cry out.

"I couldn't," Harry said. "Dumbledore immobilized me, he wanted me to witness the whole thing. He wanted me to know. But Snape didn't hesitate. Where the fuck is he, Malfoy?"

Draco seemed to be in a lot of pain, but Harry suddenly realized Draco's cock hadn't wilted at all. When he heard Draco groaning, he recognized pleasure.

"I don't know," Draco said, his look glazed over. He looked too fragile against the brown furs. His bones jutted sharply underneath Harry's grip. Harry felt a tight clench in his stomach, knowing he was going to come soon.

"He doesn't even trust you," Harry taunted. He gasped as he felt the pressure rise, straining to keep the pleasure out of his voice. The act was nothing like what he'd expected, but it was good. Too good. "He's not even here to save you."

Draco squirmed, crying out his fury as tears streamed down his cheeks. Harry laughed, but it was a broken sound.

"You're alone, at my mercy and I... even I don't care about you."

"He's dead!"

Draco wrung the words out as if he couldn't bear to say them, his eyes clenching closed as Harry gasped, coming without warning. Draco's eyes flew open as he felt Harry shudder, a mixture of relief and horror on his face. Harry felt himself spurt into Draco, moaning as he held on tight. Harry's legs were trembling as he pulled out of Draco, sitting back on the furs and staring at the other boy.

"Please take the belt off," Draco said plaintively. "My fingers..."

Harry leaned forward and undid the buckle, tossing the belt aside. Draco curled over onto his side, looking up at Harry with a blank expression. Harry couldn't speak. He didn't bother to cover himself up or anything. He could only shake his head in bewilderment.

"Snape? He can't be dead," Harry said.

"The Dark Lord wouldn't hear his case of my mistake," Draco said, his voice hollow. He swiped the back of his hand against his eyes, the area around his nose still looking bruised and tender. "We were about to be killed; he threw me into the Floo. I don't expect he's still alive."

"I'm glad," Harry said. But he felt empty, unfinished. That should have been his revenge, and now it was gone. He only then realized that Draco was still half-hard, but there wasn't any telltale smear. The afterglow of his orgasm was already wearing off with this disappointing news.

"I want you to wank," Harry demanded.

"You're impossible,” Draco snorted as he rolled over onto his back, still obviously sullen from the information he'd just revealed. Harry stood up and nudged Draco over with his foot, smirking down at the other boy.

"I've got Floo powder," Harry lied. "And you're not going anywhere unless I give it to you. So, wank. The faster you get off, the quicker you get out of here."

Draco looked as if he would try to get away again, but he seemed to realize there wasn't any other way about it. He tentatively grasped his cock, dragging his fingertips along the underside. Harry felt an uncomfortable squirm in his gut. Draco smirked.

"Like watching a little too much?" Draco taunted. "Did Weasel let you watch?"

"Shut up and do it," Harry said with a snort, unable to look away.

"Bet you did," Draco said, reaching for the lubrication that Harry had discarded, smearing it in his open palm and gripping his cock tightly with a lewd grin. "Or maybe you peeked between the curtains, hoping to catch a glimpse."

Harry opened his mouth to hurl another retort, but nothing came but a dry click in his throat.

"Does he mewl when he comes?" Draco crooned, now taking much too much obvious enjoyment in jerking his cock, fisting it hard and raising his hips up. "Or maybe he bites his hand to stifle his moans and you like that even better."

Harry realized he was getting hard again. For all his teasing, Draco seemed to be enjoying it as well. His breathing was shorter as he grinned up at Harry.

"That thought getting you hard?" Harry countered. Draco pulled a sour face, not liking the way the tables were turning.

"Hardly," Draco snorted. "I'd sooner wank off to your bloody Fat Lady."

"Then what are you thinking of?"

Draco looked caught off-guard again, but his fisted jerking never ceased, in fact his motions became faster.

"I'm thinking of how it would feel to do what you did to me," Draco said, his voice tight as if he didn't mean to reveal that at all. "To make you feel it, to make you tell me how you like it."

Harry swallowed hard. He could see himself on the furs where Draco lay, feel the fur under his clenched fists and Draco... Draco, who knew what he was doing.

"You want to fuck me?" Harry said.

"Yes," Draco said, hoarse. Harry could see he was getting close, his mouth slightly open and panting as he stared up at Harry. "But only to make you hurt... Unnnghh!"

Draco came at that moment, his eyes wide with surprise and pleasure as he stared up at Harry. There was another quiet pause, as if neither of them could quite believed this had just happened.

"Just try it," Harry smirked. "I don't have the Floo powder anyway, so we've got all night."

With a snarl, Draco lunged for Harry.


End file.
